


The World Inconspicuous, D.O.N.T.

by ShinSolo



Category: 30 Seconds to Mars
Genre: Crack, Gen, Random references to Three 6 Mafia, attempted humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinSolo/pseuds/ShinSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows that Jared Leto has always had dreams of catchy synthesized chords, cheesy music videos, and matching polyester wind suits.  But what most people do not realize, is that 30 Seconds to Mars actually emerged on the music scene as a 90's boy band.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Inconspicuous, D.O.N.T.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry... Pure Crack and not much else. Perhaps it will be humorous.

Everyone knows that Jared Leto has always had dreams of catchy synthesized chords, cheesy music videos, and matching polyester wind suits.  But what most people do not realize, is that 30 Seconds to Mars actually emerged on the music scene as a 90's boy band.  In fact, before he stole Jared’s girlfriend, they were actually a brother band to Justin Timberlake’s N’SYNC  – Mr. Leto’s top secret endeavor.  
  
“I think we can do it,” Jared had told Shannon for the hundredth time in the past two weeks.  
  
“Oh God, for the last time . . . No!”  
  
“No, seriously!  I’ve already talked to that Pearlman guy, and he said he’s willing to sign us.  All we need is a name.  Shan, we can really do this!” – Jared sighed. – “Don’t you see?  This is our way of finally fulfilling our dreams.”  
  
“Wait, you mean you talked to Lou Pearlman?  The guy that manages The Backstreet Boys?”  Shannon asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.  
  
“The very man!”  Jared proudly stated.  “Backstreet Boys, O-Town, Aaron Carter, and . . and . . Oh! And the Lyte Funky Ones, too!”  
  
“The Lyte Funky Ones?”  Shannon said, his voice sounding somewhat confused – that is, until he remembered who they were.  “Oh!  He managed LFO?!  Well in that case, count me in, bro!  Yee-haw!!  These Letos are goin’ PoP!”  
  
Over the span of the next two week, Shannon began auditioning potential members, and Jared spent that time pondering all the ends and outs of Lou’s contract offer.  And after everything was settled, signed, and their first set of matching red headbands were purchased, the band consisted of five members: Matt Wachter, Kevin Drake, Solon Bixler, and the two brothers.  Even more astonishing for a boy band, was that three out of the five of them could actually sing something other than backing vocals.  
  
Now all they needed was a catchy name!  
  
But finding a name worthy enough proved harder than any of them had ever dreamed.  
  
“What about a play on words with the word ‘chippendales’?”  Kevin suggested.  “We could be called something like . . .  ‘The Drakendales!’  Or like . . . ‘The Sing’nDales’?”  
  
“Or we could do something like BSB did?  Where we use like the name of the street we first meet as our title and then add a catchy word like ‘boys’ or ‘way’ to the end.”  Solon suggested.  “Then we would be either ‘42 Ways’, or maybe ‘The 42nd Boys’?”  
  
“Nah, we could so pimp something like O-Town did,” Shannon suddenly exclaimed.  “But instead of Orlando, we would use our own hometown.  So it would be like . .  Bos-Town.  Get it?  Like Boys Town, but Bos-Town?  Like Bossier City?”  
  
“Those are all really gay names.  I don’t want anyone thinking we’re gay, cause we’re just not,” Matt added as he blew on his fingernails to dry the fresh coat of red polish he had just applied.  “If we’re going to do this, we need a powerful, manly name.  Something strong that everyone will see and automatically picture men full of pure testosterone with big, muscular, tight as . . .”  
  
“Shut up, Wachter,” Jared snapped, cutting the younger man off mid-sentence.  “All of your ideas suck, because you’re basing them off of sucky bands!  If we’re going to be successful, we need to look to the best in the business for our example, and I know just the man to guide us.”  
  
“Who?”  Three of the guys said in unison.  Matt was too busy fixing one of his nails that he had bumped to follow the conversation enough to answer.  
  
Jared held up one finger to silence them and then dialed one of the numbers stored in his phone’s speed dial.  
  
“JT?  Hey!  It’s Jared.  Q.  How’d U get UR BN? . . . OIC! Man, I’m so SFETE RN. THX, Bro . . . Oh, yeah, TAFN. . . . I’ll KIT and TTYL.  TTFN. MTFBWU!  Peace!”  
  
“You really called Justin Timberlake?” Solon asked.  
  
“Holy fuck!  I didn’t know you knew Chat Speak!  Far out!”  Shannon exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride.  
  
“Oh my God . . . Did you really just tell him, ‘May the force be with you’?!” Kevin scoffed as if he were George Lucas himself objecting such degradation of his life work.  
  
Even Matt looked up from applying his top coat long enough to add his two cents, saying, “You really think that faggot is going to be able to help us?  He couldn’t even spell the word testosterone if he were copping it down on paper straight from the dictionary!”  
  
But Jared didn’t let any of their remarks deter him from his task.   He quickly grabbed hold of a clean sheet of paper and a piece of graphite infested wood and wrote each of their names across the top in capital letters.  
  
“Let’s see . . . If I use the first ones, that gives us . . .  K.  S.  S.  J.  K . . . And that won’t work, no vowels. . . . And if I use the first of the last parts . . . D.  B.  L.  L.  W. . . Fuck, still no vowels!” – Jared chewed on the end of his eraser as he contemplated the situation so hard that beads of sweat began to form along his forehead. – “Maybe E. R. O. O. R. . . . Erroo . .  Orreo . . . Oreor . . . Reoro . . . Roore . . .Damn letters!  N.  N.  N.  D.  T. . . D.N.N.N.T.?  We can draw a line and make it DAMNIT! Cause that’s about what I’m thinking right about now!”  
  
Shannon placed his hand on Jared’s shoulder and leaned over him to see what he was trying to accomplish.  He squinted his eyes and turned his head sideways and then upside down.  
  
“Oh, I see . . Like N’SYNC did?  The name is made up of the last letter of everyone’s names?” – Shannon turned to look at the other guys as if trying to remember their names. – “Would an O instead of two of those N’s work better?”  
  
Jared looked up at his brother, his confusion written across his face.  
  
“Because I know this guy who is good enough to replace both those bitches,” Shannon said with a smirk as he up-nodded toward Kevin and Solon.  “And that would give you an O, instead of the N’s.”  
  
“That would give me . . . D. O. T. N. . . . T. O. N. D?  Oh!!  D. O. N. T.!!  Oh my F’in G, Shay-Shay!  That’s wonderful!”  Jared exclaimed as he threw his arms around his brother.  “I can’t believe you actually did something pimp shit!  We’ll just get rid of Solon and Kevin!”  
  
“Does this mean I can go home now and change out of this stupid wind suit?” Kevin suddenly interrupted.  “Cause if you need to fire me, I’m more than willing to leave jubilantly.”  
  
“But what about me?!” Solon protested.  “You guys can’t just get rid of me like that!  Music is my whole life!”  
  
“Don’t worry, buddy,” Kevin said, wrapping his arm around Solon’s waist and leading him out of the room.  “You’re in a boy band!  You know what that means?  You’ve got the perfect opportunity to go solo, now.  I mean, if Nick Carter tried it, then anyone can, right?”  
  
But neither Jared nor Shannon heard whether or not Solon was happy about Kevin’s suggestion, they were too busy drooling over Tomo Milicevic, the new guy that had walked through the double doors the same time the other two had walked out.  
  
And so the boys gained international success – mainly in Cambodia and some parts of the Indonesian Islands – by recording other people’s sappy love songs, taking photo shoots wearing matching imitation suits and fake silk shirts, and yes, even filming a series of music videos that took place in the rain and embraced the use of slow motion.  
  
However, any success comes with a price.  And when you’re Jared J. Leto and sometimes have up to three thirteen year old virgins nearly knocking your hotel door down for Tomo’s address every month, the pressure can become almost unbearable.  
  
So in the fall of 1996, the world inconspicuous boy band, D.O.N.T., officially called it quits, but that didn’t stop Jared’s desire to make music.  And in the very next year, the former pop diva had yet another idea.  
  
“I think we can really get big with this,” Jared said in the middle of the movie that the former members of D.O.N.T. had all gathered to watch.  
  
“Jay . . . Ssshhh . . . This is the best part . . .”  
  
“Yeah, Jared.  Shut your trap.”  
  
“Guys, I can’t hear the movie over you talkin’!”  
  
“No, seriously!  I think we can really pull this off!”  Jared persisted as he ignored their protests for silence and turned on the couch to face his brother,.  “I’ve been talking to Juicy J on and off for the past two weeks, and he said that if we seriously want to get into the business, he’ll hook us up with some connections.”  
  
“Juicy J?  What sort of a name is that?” Matt asked, looking at Jared like he had lost his mind.  
  
Tomo also had a similar reaction, but Shannon was grinning like the Cheshire cat, excitement and disbelief written all over his face much like a teeny would when meeting face to face with her idol.  
  
“You don’t know?!” he nearly screamed, his eyes wide.  “You’ve never heard of Juicy J?  DJ Paul?  Lord Infamous?!  Come on, bro!  Three 6 Mafia!  In da’ house!”  
  
Matt and Tomo exchanged looks of fear and bewilderment before turning to the Leto’s and exclaiming:  
  
“Aw’ HELL No!”

**Author's Note:**

> Written 06/26/2007.


End file.
